


To Fall and Rise Again

by Tally



Series: To Fall and Rise Again [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tally/pseuds/Tally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After The Great Jedi Purge, a Knight, who left the Order, returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jedi

**Author's Note:**

> I wondered what the Force sensitives, who left the Order or who never became Jedi and joined the Agricorps, did after Order 66. As with all things, as I wrote the premise changed, but this is the result of that initial thought.

One - The Jedi

 

He was in the garden when it came. The roll of pain as thousands died and joined the Force knocked him to his knees. There was a moment, before it hit, when the galaxy seemed to hold its breath; a silence before the storm. It was a warning, and had the moment lasted for longer than an indrawn breath, then maybe he could have braced himself, prepared himself for the boiling wave that pummelled against him.

 

He had lived there for so long in peace, retreating from the galaxy, abandoned and abandoning. For more than ten years he had lived as a healer to a small, insignificant farming community on a planet no one of importance had ever heard of. And if his patients healed quicker or his medicine seemed more potent, then no one noticed, for it had not always been so. But ten years’ experience would improve anyone’s skill. None knew that on quiet, calm nights he ran into the distant hills, immersed in the Force, and performed open hand katas that to most would have looked like a dance bereft of its partner. Nor did any see him practice his fine Force control on the dust and rocks that swept the landscape for the pure sake of enjoyment in the moment.

 

When the Clone War had begun, he had joined his neighbours in defending their homes against the separatist armies. But the battle had been brief, if fierce, and soon they were all forgotten again. For now. No one was looking for him, he knew, why would they? So they would not come for him. Nevertheless they would come, he knew, though it may take years, and this planet may be the last planet the Darkness came to, but Darkness would still come because the Sith would not be content until all worlds bent their knee. 

 

He stood once more and strode back into his home, leaving the spade and gloves he had been working with; they were not needed now and for him would never be needed again. The Force would have its way and he had denied it for too long and now it was time to return. He packed the few things he knew he would need, a change of clothes, a few ration bars and some credits before turning to the box, hidden beneath his bed, almost forgotten in the life he had carved out. In it was a single item, made by his own hands and crafted with his skill and with the Force. It was a metal cylinder, a weapon of legend, and now it would be a symbol for the fallen. He took it carefully into his hands, sensing that it was still serviceable, that long years of disuse had not diminished it. 

 

The blade, when lit, was blue and beautiful; power and magnificence contained within a weapon only the most skilled could wield and for so long it had been the symbol of peace and justice in the galaxy and he knew it would be again. 

 

He shouldered his pack, clipped the 'saber to his belt and left his home.

 

The space port was not far. He would find a ship off world and he would head back out into the galaxy. The Jedi had fallen and with them so had the Republic. He was needed now as he had never been needed before. A Jedi he had always been and he would leave his safe haven and find the others, those that remained, and gather them to safety before turning their combined gaze upon the evil of the Sith and conquering the Darkness once more. 

 

Thirteen years ago he had left the order, knighted at the hand of Yoda because his own master had already been busy with his new padawan. Knighted, he felt, in name only. He had packed a few things and gone to the landing platform. No one came to say goodbye or stop him from leaving, but at the bottom of the shuttle's ramp had been Yoda, waiting for him with sad eyes. 

 

'A Jedi you are,' he had said. 'Leave you need not.'

 

But Yoda was wrong and no more words were said. He had not surrendered his lightsaber nor had Yoda asked for it and in the intervening years he had often wondered why. He wondered if the ancient master thought he may change his mind and return after finding his peace away from the temple, returning feeling less like a fraud. But he had not. Now, he wondered if the diminutive master had some how perceived the end that was coming and knew that while the young knight's place had not been as a Jedi within the Republic, it would be as a Jedi in the Darkest time the galaxy had ever known. 

 

As he left the planet far behind, his thought turned to those that may still remain. Who had survived? Yoda and the rest of the council? Friends? And what of his dear master? Had he lived through the purge of the Jedi order? He would not know until he sought them all out. 

 

Aboard a ship heading into the dark of the galaxy, a Jedi sits in meditation. His long years alone, with only the Force for company, had honed his skills to a knife edge and within the Force he could sense them, those that remained. All those that remained. Perhaps he had meant to leave the Order, perhaps the Force had divided him from his brethren for this purpose. To find them, to gather them, to fight with them and finally to save them. Obi-Wan Kenobi, among the last of the Jedi order, would be their salvation and the hope of a galaxy enslaved.


	2. The Defeated

Two - The Defeated

 

 

He was aware of falling and then, nothing. He thought he may have passed over into death, but for the grip he felt on his mind and soul. He survived, somehow; dragged himself into shelter in the lower levels; curled in on himself waiting for it to end. Or so he thought. But it was something else he was waiting for. Life did not end. In the darkest recess on Coruscant, he huddled, until he was picked up and carried away. He did not remember much of that time: pain, confusion and surprise at the face that gazed down at him. It did not make sense. How could that boy be here?

 

Time passed; how much he had no way to tell, until he awoke, finally fully aware of the world around him. Much had changed. He was still on the city planet, that he could tell, the Force signature of such a place clogged with both life and death unique in the whole of the galaxy. But he was not at the Temple; in fact, the bare room he lay in was completely unknown to him. He sat up slowly, taking in his physical condition. Someone had tended his wounds, someone gifted with healer’s hands and the Force. His hand ached, a phantom pain in the limb he had lost. But it was not the only ache. Everything hurt to some degree, but he was alive.

 

He realised he was not alone in the room, there was a man sitting at a table looking back at him, waiting for him to notice his presence. He remembered the shock he had felt in his delirium to see this man and had thought him a mirage, but there he sat, dressed as a Jedi, calmly waiting for him to speak. But he could not speak, no words came to the Jedi master. So much had happened, more he knew that he was aware of. He glanced again at the stump of his arm, remembering a duel and a fall, but not his fall.

 

'What happened?' he finally asked.

 

'I felt the end and came for you.'

 

'End? What do you mean? Now is not the time to speak in riddles, boy, the Republic is falling.'

 

'Not falling, but fallen and with it the Jedi order. You have been unconscious for some time, but now you are awake, we must act.'

 

The Jedi master looked at his companion, knowing he spoke the truth, but unable to comprehend his words. Seeing his confusion, the other Jedi spoke again.

 

'The Jedi Order is dead, betrayed by the man who now calls himself Emperor, but some still remain and I will find them and we shall fight again.'

 

Mace Windu was exhausted and injured, but all the same his Force senses stirred and for the first time he realised he was looking upon more than a man. The boy who had left the order had become something else in his absence, or perhaps it was the horror of slaughter that had altered him so. He listened as the young knight spoke, seeing and hearing more than words could say. He listened as the events of the last months were told him in clear tones, what had happened in the wider galaxy while he had been tended to and recovered. He was the first, he realised, the first to be found because his need was great. But there were others to be found and saved, as well.

 

He watched the man stand, give his farewell and leave. The Jedi master did not gaze after him, his vision instead turned inwards, looking at the strands of the Force that flowed around him and into the future. He had been unaware for too long, but now he was awake he had a purpose, given to him by an old friend. He would stay on Coruscant and watch the Empire from below its feet, while the forgotten man walked the galaxy gathering the servants of Light together. Windu knew his rescuer would go to Yoda first, where ever the venerable master had hidden himself away and he knew that all the others would also be found.

 

His thoughts turned then to another old friend and wondered what the other master would do when he heard the whispering of a name cast aside into obscurity. He marvelled at the parallel of two apprentices: one fallen to darkness while the other held up by the Light. He wondered what would happen when their master heard once more the name, Obi-Wan Kenobi.


	3. The Exile

Three - The Exile

 

Long years.

 

Long years and dark times were his legacy. The wisest being amongst the wisest of the galaxy and he had not seen this end. The Darkness had so blinded them all, blending with the shadows and leaching out the light that it touched until none was left. He felt every bit his eight hundred years as he left behind the life he knew in ashes and smoke to live a life of exile. He had not known and now all was lost but for two bright new souls. A heavy burden for them to inherit, but worlds cloaked in Darkness was the alternative, so while he would spare them the life they would lead, he knew it was not within his power. 

 

He journeyed far though the stars until he came to a world so alive in the Force his own Force signature would be hidden from all those who would come to look. And they would look, of that he was certain. In escaping from Sidious, the once Grand Master of the Jedi Order had made himself known to the Sith: they knew he yet lived and they would come for him. Best to live quietly, best to live in solitude, best to simply just live. He had sent his only companion, Qui-Gon Jinn to live on a desert world while he would dwell in swamp and ruin. Apart they would wait for the time to rise again.

 

He made his home, ready to wait a lifetime for hope to rise again. But, it was hope that found him. Not a year after the great purge a new Light stirred and then it came for him. Out of the night of Dagobah, a ship came, silent and grave in its purpose. It landed close to his home, carrying to his door a lone man. He strode from the ship, every line of his bearing screaming Jedi and the Force of the planet calling out in welcome. He left his ship and knelt before the diminutive Jedi master. Yoda gazed on a face he had not seen for more than ten years and knew that hope was not years away but in the man before him. A man lost to the Jedi in grief and abandonment and yet here he was, when he was needed, ready to stand with his forsaken brethren, unburdened by bitterness or regret because he was and always had been a Jedi. 

 

Gone was the boy Yoda remembered, gone was anger and fear, and in its place was calm and a connection to the Force so strong that Yoda marvelled to see it. 

 

'I have come,' was all he said.

 

Yoda looked upon him and smiled.

 

'A true Jedi you have become; difficult task it is which lays before you.'

 

The man nodded, understanding what it was that the Light was asking of him and believing that he would succeed and the Dark would fall again.

 

'Then come inside and tell me your plans you will,' the ancient master said, turning to his dwelling, knowing the man would follow. Without looking back he said. 'Missed you I have, Obi-Wan Kenobi.'


	4. The Healer

Four - The Healer

 

They had survived and in truth little had changed in their day to day life. Master Luminara Unduli and her apprentice had survived the great purge, but healers were needed everywhere and so they had vanished into the worlds on the galaxy, still practising their arts, but not as Jedi. Not anymore.

 

They had come to this world less than a cycle ago and their task lay ahead of them. A pandemic had ravished the land and although the worst was passing, there were still those in need of care. She walked among the sick, stopping here and there to offer comfort, surreptitiously using the Force so that her patients healed quicker but not so overtly that anyone would notice. Her padawan was resting; she had taken the night shift and had earned her reprieve from the echoes of pain that filled the hospice and the city beyond its walls, so she was alone when he came.

 

He did not stride into her ward with purpose, he did not announce himself to her, not wanting to reveal what she was to these people if he could not draw her away. Instead he lingered by the door and let his presence within the Force slowly wash over her. When she felt the light brush of his aura reaching out to her, she turned to the door and saw him for the first time. She did not know him, had never known him, but part of her recognised him. He nodded to her and walked back though the door.

 

She followed him out.

 

He led her down the corridor and out into the morning light. He stopped and waited for her to catch up with him, patient and assured she would come. 

 

'I will not pull you away if you feel you are needed most here,' he told her without introduction. 'But I have come to tell you, you are needed out there also. War makes casualties and healers are needed.'

 

'War? We are at war again, Master Jedi?'

 

'The Republic rises again, Master Luminara, and the Jedi must fight for those who cannot.' He bowed. 'I leave it to you.'

 

He left her in the morning light, walking away, just as he had arrived, unobtrusively. She watched him leave, her eyes on the street even after he had left her sight. She knew who he was. He was the Jedi knight that had slain a Sith on Naboo more than ten years ago. The first Jedi to do so in a millennium, and him just an apprentice at the time. She remembered him then, and wondered why she had forgotten such a man. Why it seemed that the whole order had managed to forget such a remarkable Jedi. He had disappeared she knew, but no one had seemed to notice at the time or remark on his leaving. Something had kept him from all their thought, the Force perhaps, protecting him from notice so that he would survive and come to them all now to save those that remained. Healers were needed, here and everywhere else in the galaxy, but she missed her brothers and the Jedi in her cried out against the Empire and his evil. She took one deep breath of morning air before turning back to go inside. She had an apprentice to awaken and a legend to follow. His name, now firmly in her heart, would not be forgotten again. She whispered it to herself as she walked along, tasting its strength and the Light that seemed to blossom with its utterance.

 

'Obi-Wan Kenobi,' she said, knowing that this name would change everything.


	5. The Weary

Five - The Weary

 

Down among the dead men. That's where he lived now, among those on the edge of life, bounty hunters, smugglers and mercenaries whose next job could be their last and whose clients were every bit as dangerous as they themselves were. They lived for today, knowing they were already dead; it was just a matter of time. He dwelt among them, one of their number, not quite living because all that he had lived for had been purged from the galaxy and in its wake was a howling vacuum of despair and darkness. He did not even have it in himself to hate or fear, none of them did; it was too much to carry upon everything else, too much to endure and that is all they did, really; endure this life.

 

He was drinking, nothing new there, when the whispers came. But they did not stir him, why would they? As all they ever heard were whispers. But these whispers did not go away, these whispers of rebellion and victory grew louder until they all turned their eyes in its direction. From out of the darkness of the Empire came hope. People were fighting and their success was spreading. There were Jedi once again in the galaxy, leading the powerless and protecting the weak as though figments of a forgotten past.

 

He remembered those times, remembered when he, too, carried a lightsaber as a sign of his status and devotion to peace. But he did not leave his dark sanctuary, he remain among the dead, sitting with them as the worlds beyond them began to live again. He did not leave, so instead they came for him.

 

Once more he was sat in a cantina, drinking and gambling, waiting for the day to end as much as anything else. But there was a disturbance in the Force, powerful, powerful enough that even the most Force blind patrons turned to the door when a figure strode through it, decked in Jedi regalia, a vision of the past made into life. He strode into the darkest hole of the galaxy with no fear and the Darkness did not touch him. In fact it seemed to cower away from him. The man came on and without a word sat at his table.

 

 

Neither man spoke, each studying the other quietly but intently. He wanted to know why he had come, why he was here in the place where the living did not come, but he did not ask, already knowing the answer. 

 

'It is time to rise up, Quinlan Vos,' the other man finally said. 

 

'I know what it is you have done,' Jedi Master Vos answered. 'But I cannot help you. There will be no rebel faction here.'

 

'You are wrong, Master Vos. Look around you. You sit among your soldiers even now, men and women who have already died in their hearts, who would fight for you if you asked it of them. These dead men long to live again; as you do, my old friend.'

 

The old Jedi master did look about him then and saw what his companion had known from the moment he had arrived. They all looked to his table, with hope restored to their eyes; if they were to die, as they knew they would, better to die with meaning. He wondered what they saw when they looked at his companion. Wondered what about this man had stirred them to life when nothing else had.

 

'We need you,' the other man continued. 'Those fallen to the twilight have a place in the galaxy, but it is not here, scrabbling around in the dirt. It is up there in the stars. There is no black and white in the galaxy, only grey. Leave your hovel, Quinlan Vos, and lead the shadowed ones into life.'

 

He stood, bowed his head to the Jedi master and left, leaving utter destruction of the lives he had just touched in his wake. But it was a cleansing destruction. Vos watched him leave, knowing he would do as he had been asked and knowing he would have an army at his back in the form of those the Empire and the old Republic has forgot. Desperate souls who would fight all the more doggedly for the cause because of the purpose it gave them. 

 

He looked after the man and remembered his youth, wondering when the boy, not much younger than him, had become the only Light left to those in the galaxy. He wondered again what others saw when they looked upon the Jedi that had left them this impossible task. He wondered because all he could see was an incandescent light armed with a lightsaber. The man who he had known was gone and in his place was a Jedi of the old ways and a name only known by those who remembered a bright haired boy with sunshine in his smile and laughter always dancing in his eyes. Quinlan Vos remembered that name. He held in to him, precious for simply knowing it, wondering if the name, Obi-Wan Kenobi, would ever be spoken again in more than a whispered prayer.


	6. The Fallen

Six - The Fallen

 

It began as a whisper, as these things often do, spoken in hushed tones in shadows and night. The Empire had risen, but a resistance had already began; spread though the galaxy, small pockets of opposition were rising. It began with only a couple and then a handful, growing and growing until dozens of units of fighters existed, toiling to topple the Sith. At the heart of all these units were Jedi. Found by one with an open hand that pulled them out of the shadows they had retreated into. Once again the Jedi were warriors, but now they were fighting for themselves as much as for the innocent. 

 

The growth of freedom fighters infuriated the Emperor. The continued presence of the Jedi mocked all that he had accomplished and yet he could not stop the resistance. For every rebel he found, two more seemed to take their place and with every rebel success, others began to hope: individuals, communities and even whole planets began to shake off the hold of the Empire and know that they, too, would one day be free.

 

The Emperor could only find whispers of a man who found those Jedi in exile and stirred them to action. A man rumoured to be a Jedi, the last to wear the cream tunics and dark cloak for all to see and who wielded a blue lightsaber as deftly as any war veteran. But none knew his name. The whispers would not speak it and none had been able to identify him from the old Jedi temple records. 

 

This Jedi was a mystery.

 

This Jedi was becoming a Legend.

 

It stirred the fury in Sidious, but in Vader something else awoke. It was not his old master, he would know if this man was he, and it was not Yoda, as everyone would have known the iconic master's form too well. It was not Windu or any of the other Council members and if any of them had survived, there was still, no sign. No, this Jedi was humanoid, average height, average build, fair skinned and auburn haired. Still young with grey eyes full of wisdom and years. Vader did not remember such a knight, but something of Anakin Skywalker stirred in his soul. The Light of a boy lost to Darkness began to emerge in memory of another young man. The memory took Darth Vader back to a time of innocence, when the dream of being a Jedi had just began, when no Darkness dwelled in his heart and he found that Anakin Skywalker was not dead after all. 

 

It began as a whisper, the resistance to the Darkness, and it grew in the galaxy and within the soul of a Sith lord not yet wholly fallen. It grew with the legend of a lone Jedi walking in the shadowed places, seeking out the lost and bringing them into the light. It flourished as hope was rekindled and maybe all those that had survived would be saved. Anakin Skywalker held the name of that Jedi close to his flickering Light, buried deep, hidden from his Dark master, knowing that one day soon, that Jedi would come for him and he would recognise the Light once more and the Sith would fall. Anakin, huddled within, remembered the name Obi-Wan Kenobi.


	7. The Lost

Seven - The Lost

 

He was surprised to see him, there was no denying it; he had thought the plan was to hide until the dust had settled, to hide until their movements would be under less scrutiny. To see his old friend in the cantina of Mos Eisley was not what he had expected when he had made his way into town that morning. His senses briefly turned to Luke, who was still safe out at his uncle’s farm. Reassured, he went to his friend and sat in silence at his table.

 

They studied each other for long moments before Master Mace Windu began to speak, telling him of the universe he had escaped from. Telling him that the rebellion would not wait; that already the Light was fighting back and it was time for the Jedi to stand again.

 

He listened as his friend told him of a man who walked out from the shadows and gathered the lost Jedi to him before sending them back out into the galaxy again, but this time with purpose. He told him that already, after only a few years, whole systems were liberated in the rim territories and more planets and people were rising up further in towards the core. He told him of the hope people had found in the legend that walked amongst them, a Jedi who understood the old ways but also advocated change so that they could survive the darkest of times. It was rumoured that even Lord Vader was not immune to the Light now seeping back into the galaxy. 

 

He was surprised to hear that more Jedi lived than originally thought and that this one man was able to find them; all of them. His connection to the Force he had gained while in exile was second to none and his connection to the scattered Jedi unprecedented. He had found Mace first, then Yoda and then he had set out to find the rest. Mace Windu told him all this and then he told him the name that belonged to this man. 

 

It seemed it was a day for surprises.

 

Mace had not given him time to retreat behind shields of indifference. He had pressed his advantage that the old Jedi's shock had given him. He asked him to leave the desert world behind, to relinquish his hurt to the Force and join them. 

 

'Come with me,' he had asked. 'Don't make him come to you.'

 

Qui-Gon Jinn looked at his old friend and heard the words he was not saying. Don't make this man come for him, as he knew he would, eventually. He did not know what time he had, did not know if he longed for the wait to be short or hoped that it would last forever before he would have to face that man again. 

 

He had lost three apprentices: two to Darkness and one to his own foolishness. His shame consumed him. Cast aside, his beloved apprentice had left the only home he had ever known and Qui-Gon, hurt at his leaving, had been angry. Angry that the boy had turned his back on everything Qui-Gon had spent a decade teaching him. He understood now, that his precious boy had not deserted the Jedi ways or his master's teachings, but had fled from a life that had wronged him beyond measure. In the time between, that boy had learnt the true Light of the Force and was the galaxy's guiding Light. Shame filled the Jedi master, but it was stubbornness that made him thank the other Jedi for his news before leaving the cantina without a backward glance. 

 

He returned to his home, walking slowly though the sands that isolated it from the main town, finding calm again in the desolation of a dead landscape. What could he do? He knew he would have to leave Tatooine eventually; he just had not imagined it would be so soon. He had thought he would have more time to grieve his loss and find some way to bear the burden left by Anakin's fall. 

 

But Mace had said Vader was not so lost after all. Perhaps his legacy would not be one of Darkness after all. Maybe they would all be saved. Was the time now? Was he ready? Could he face all those he had failed?

 

As he crested the final dune before his home, he saw that the decision had been taken from him: on the sands outside his home, stood a man. He was dressed as a Jedi: cream tunics and brown robe and at his hip was a lightsaber for all to see. He knew this man, who shone with Light, but he had not seen him for more than ten years. Time had been kind to the boy who had left him; he stood with purpose and a quiet strength that the Jedi master did not believe even the Sith could dominate.

 

He strode on, towards his past, coming to a stop an arms distance away from the man. Wanting to reach out and touch, to see if this vision of the old ways was a mirage. He did not, fearing his touch would be unwelcome and rejected. He stared into grey eyes and knew his fears were foolish. This man loved him still; cared for his old master; forgiven him for his actions.

 

'Hello, Master Qui-Gon,' the lone Jedi said.

 

And he replied, saying the boy’s name for the first time in what felt like an age and with its utterance came the return of hope and Light.

 

'Hello, Obi-Wan Kenobi.'


	8. The Emperor

Eight - The Emperor

 

And so he came for them all, one by one he found them, whether they hid in shadows or lived in plain sight. He found them and brought them back to themselves and their true paths as servants of the Force. All followed him away from the lives they had managed to make for themselves. All abandoned these lives that meant so little when compared to what he offered. They could be Jedi again, unashamed and openly. They may die for it, they all knew, but to the last they all knew it was a better path to tread than the ones that they had begun to walk down with the rise of the Empire. Better to die as they had lived than simply survive in a galaxy where every man, woman and child was an enemy because any one of them could betray their secret if found out. But to live openly, to live free meant there was no secret to be found.

 

The Jedi were few in number now, none could deny it. Where once the Temple halls were filled with beings who could be strangers but still recognised as brothers and sisters, now all those that remained knew the names of all their brethren. They looked to each other now and they looked to him, the man who raised them up. 

 

The rebellion grew, its success down to the men and women who fought valiantly; but all their strength lay at the heart of one man. He had no name, at least not to those who had not known him before the great fall, he was known simply as the Jedi, referred to as such by all, this man who walked among them but not part of them. This man who led them in hope and Light. This man who even the other Jedi could not fathom. This man whose name was a blessing to the Jedi, a name they almost jealously guarded as their secret, as if speaking it to those not already in the know would somehow break the spell he had somehow weaved around them all. Afraid that if spoken, the Empire would hear and come for him. They protected him, by never speaking his name; guarding him the only way left to them.

 

Until the end.

 

Finally, after victories and battles, that name was shouted out into the galaxy, shouted in defiance at the remains of the Empire. It was a shout picked up by those who heard it, echoed in cities, deserts and oceans until it reach the ears of the Emperor; that single name, a word that had come to mean rebellion and hope. The Sith lord heard this name and recognised it for the man who had claimed his first apprentice many, many years ago, in a time lost in blood and death. The Sith know no fear, only anger and hate. When Darth Sidious heard the name, fury consumed him, but he did not fear, confident that this man could be conquered also. He turned to his apprentice with a sneer, but did not see what he had expected. Vader was gone and in his place stood Anakin Skywalker, the boy lost to Darkness for so many long years, had emerged with that name, taking up the shout. And hearing the name Obi-Wan Kenobi on that boy’s lips, Darth Sidious at last knew he was lost.


End file.
